


Moonlight Serenade

by tetree



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 25th Infantry Division Bologna, 6th German Army (Werhmacht), 8th Italian Army, Battle of Stalingrad, Fascism, Fascist Propaganda, German-Italian Propaganda, Historical Hetalia, M/M, Massacre of the Acqui Division, Second Battle of El Alamein
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-05-01 04:50:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14512926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tetree/pseuds/tetree
Summary: “Italian comrades, soldiers and officers, why fight against the Germans? You have been betrayed by your leaders!... LAY DOWN YOUR ARMS!! THE ROAD BACK TO YOUR HOMELAND WILL BE OPENED UP FOR YOU BY YOUR GERMAN COMRADES.”





	1. non partir

comrade

 

noun | com•rade

 

Definition of Comrade:an intimate friend or trusted companion, especially one with whom you have been involved in difficult or dangerous activities, or another fellow soldier in a soldier’s group.

 

 

 

That is what they were, or at least, that is what they had been told. It was hard to imagine just a couple decades ago he had taken him in as prisoner of war and now here they were congregated at the dinner table, their men eating and laughing.How bizarre, Germany thought, but was quickly interrupted by Hitler nudging him with his elbow. He gestured torwards the others.

 

“Is the food good?” Germany asked his guests. 

 

“‘S fine”, Romano replied.

 

“Oh yes! Thank you so much Mr. Germany!” Veneciano chirped.

 

Mussolini cleared his throat and then raised his gaze to the Germans. “We appreciate you for making such a wonderful meal for us. Thank you.”

 

Hitler smiled softly at his senior. “But of course! Anything for our friends.”

 

Romano inspected the glass of wine before him, taking it delicately in his fingers, peering in and ultimately bringing it up to his lips for a sip. Germany leaned in slightly and quirked his eyebrows upwards, expectantly. Romano caught his movements and set the glass down.

 

“... It’s good. “

 

“I’m glad. “ Germany let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had held in.

 

“I suppose we’ll need to start strategizing and organizing the Royal Army as well as our Air Force and Navy soon?” one of the Italian Sergenti suggested.

 

“We will also need to arrange a meeting with the Japanese, right?” Mussolini added.

 

Hitler nodded, taking a sip of his own wine. “Yes that’s right. But we’ll take about that later. For now,” -he rose from his seat- “let us celebrate our alliance.”

 

He lifted is glass and looked around at all of those at the table. Everyone stood up as well.

 

“Here’s to our Alliance and to the future of Europe!”

 

“ **Prost**!”

 

“ **Evviva**!”

—————————————–

 

“WHAT?!”

 

“I... I’m sorry, it’s just that-“

 

“ _Non dirmi cazzate!_ ” Romano spat.

 

General Gariboldi chewed his right cheek and avoided Romano’s stare. If looks could kill, he would have been a dead man threefold. He couldn’t blame him though. His younger brother was about to be drafted to Soviet Russia along with the 8th Italian Army to aid the Germans. There was nothing they could do about it either. Mussolini insisted that they participate in the invasion and the Germans reluctantly took them, only because they needed all the manpower they could get.

 

The urge to snap back was great despite the threatening aura that Romano was radiating. After all it was the Italian brothers who had suggested a simple army division; those closer to the south would be drafted to Spain, Greece, Libya, and Egypt meanwhile those who lived more on the northern side would be drafted to France, Germany, Yugoslavia, and the USSR. It was logical. Was.

 

“I swear to God, if comes back to me with so much as a scratch, I will castrate you!” He tilted his chin upwards in order to appear slightly taller to the other man and then marched away, almost crashing into a young boy on his way out. Luckily, the boy quickly moved out of his path and watched as the livid man stormed off, God knows where.“What was that all about?” he questioned.

 

Gariboldi flinched and turned around only to see the young lad by the doorframe, his body relaxing at the sight.

“Oh, it’s just you Lorenzo.”

 

“Si. What happened sir?”

 

“Don’t dwell on it my boy. Tell me, to what to I own the honor of having you in my office today?” Gariboldi said.

 

“Well I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be leaving early to head over to the recruiting station to pick up my draft registration card” Lorenzo responded.

 

A small smirk came across his face.

“As far as I’m concerned, I’ll be joining the Eighth Army,” he said, “guess it’s fate. We’re stuck together again. The only thing that slightly worries me is the snow. I hope it won’t be too cold where we’re headed.”

 

“Are you kidding?!”

 

General Gariboldi let out a chortle before saying, “That’s like asking a mule to fix a steam train. I suggest you start getting used to the cold. We’ll be staying up there for at least a year.”

 

“A year?!” Lorenzo repeated in disbelief.

 

“Aw, don’t be too frightened” -Lorenzo pouted- “I was looking over the list and I saw a couple of familiar names...”

 

“...Vargas? Captain?!”

 

“Yes! Oh, and look here too.”

 

He pointed out to a name towards the bottom of the page. Lorenzo’s eyes squinted at the letters only to widen in shock, the color of his face draining away as his brain registered what it was that he was reading.

 

 _Alfonso Capozzi._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is my first fanfic I hope you guys enjoy it. I’m not as good as other writers but I’m here haha enjoy!~


	2. children

“He’s not like the others.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

The German officer looked around to see if anyone else was listening to their conversation.

 

“You see, he’s half Austrian. His mother is from Klagenfurt and his father is from Verona. When he was born they left to Italy in a little town near Venice called Spinea”, the man whispered.

 

An Austrian in the Italian Royal Army. That wasn’t hard to believe for Germany. He had heard countless stories of this type of situation.

 

“So?” Germany said. The officer licked his dry lips before continuing. “There are rumors, sir, that he... has a partner.”

 

“And?” he pressed further. This was irritating. Was there a point to all this? What did he care of the Italian infantry.

 

“It’s another male... sir.”

 

Sharp knocking interrupted them. “May I speak to General Ludwig in private?”

 

Oh?

Oh.

Those lovely auburn eyes. He felt his heart skip a beat. Germany turned to the officers and dismissed them. Another male.

Oh.

That smile that illuminated the room. He wanted to keep it. Another male. He wanted to keep him. Germany walked over to close the door and then turned to the smaller man, clearing his throat to avoid his voice faltering.

 

“....Good-morning.”

 

“He’s a good boy”, Veneciano muttered.

 

“W-what?” “Alfonso! He’s a good man! I promise he won’t be any trouble! Let me take care of it! Oh god I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. It’s just that your door was wide open and I wanted to-“

 

“Italy! Relax... I wasn’t going to do anything. That’s your business. And honestly, I don’t mind it, personally.” Germany looked away for a moment, taking in a breath, trying to relax himself and regulate his heartbeat, and attempting to hide the rosy hue dusted on his cheeks. Another male. “It’s... alright?”

 

“I’m... not sure. But I won’t say anything. I have... lots of other things in my mind right now”, Germany replied.

 

Italy hummed in agreement. “Well then, back to what I really came for. The last of my soldiers are coming in today. We’ll be ready to leave in two days.”

 

Germany smiled, “Perfect. Then I’ll send a few trucks to pick up the supplies at 1:00. That sound good?”

“Yeah. Hey can we go out?” Italy said

“What? Where?” “I don’t know. We hardly ever hang out anymore. I know you’re busy but can we at least go out to eat? I’ve got to meet up with a few other men later today at the recruitment station” Italy said a small frown on his face. Germany bit his lip and looked around, his eyes scanning the room. “Alright, sure.” Soon the were outside walking the streets when Italy suggested they take a shortcut. And then he felt the pressure. On his back.

 

Germany turned around. “Carry me!” Italy’s arms stretched before him, expectantly. Germany shook his head. “What, no!” Italy’s smile was replaced with a frown. “Come on, please? You’re young and strong and I’m old and small... Carry me!” he insisted, jumping slightly while stretching his arms out again.

 

The purest thing in the world, Germany thought, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. How could he say no to that. “Alright, alright”, he said putting his hands up in defeat, “come here old man”, and then crouched down before him. Italy leaned onto his back, wrapping his arms around Germany’s neck. As he stood up Italy let out an almost inaudible whimper.

“What’s wrong Italy?” Germany asked.

 

“I’m not too heavy, am I?” Italy questioned.

 

“Of course not! Your fine. I can carry at least twice your weight.” Germany responded.

“Really?!”

 

“Mhm.”

With that, the two were off again crossing a small clearing, laughing as they trotted through and Italy burying his face in the crook of Germany’s neck. “I’m glad your here with me”, he whispered.

“Me too. “

———————————

“...and they were roommates.”

 

“Oh my god, shut up already!”

 

“Mind your damn business, tedesco.”

 

“Forget about him, Ale. It’s not worth it. Ignore him. “

 

“No! We’re going to be stuck with them for a year, Leo! I’m gonna make sure that he leaves me alone!” Ale said standing up and making his way towards the group of German soldiers. “Oh yeah?!”

 

“Woah, sit down Dieter. If General Ludwig gets here and sees what you’re doing-“

 

But Dieter threw the closest thing near him to Ale: a tin can with some stew still inside.

 

“Oh HELL no.” Ale pounced on him tackling him to the ground. The two got into a heated fist fight and anyone that tried to stop them was shoved away. Dieter got to his feet but Ale tripped him and gained the upper hand again. The two scuffled on the ground, rolling and tumbling over each other. Finally, Dieter got on top of the Italian, pinning his hands with his right knee and left hand and raised his fist to strike him. Ale braced himself but then looked up when a pair of boots stopped by his head.

 

“Was zur Hölle geht hier vor?!”

 

Dieter looked up at the source. It was his general, Ludwig, with Captain Vargas behind him, a look of worry and disapproval on his face. But Ludwig was pissed. “You’re fighting with the ally? You are a disgrace and bring shame to me when I see you with that uniform.”

 

Ale shifted slightly underneath him. Dieter got off him and Ale quickly got up on his feet. He looked at the ground and then turned to the German. “Mi perdoni?” After everything, he was the one apologizing? Guilt began to slowly consume him. Avoid eye contact.

 

“Kiss him.”

 

“E-excuse me?!”

 

“On the cheek,” Alfonso clarified, “you should apologize as well.”

 

Dieter looked at his commander in hopes that he would get him out of such an uncomfortable situation. No such luck. Instead he made a ‘go ahead’ gesture. He looked back at the Italian who offered his forehead rather than his cheek. He took it as a sign that the Italian was trying to help him out a bit.

 

Germany looked at the rest meanwhile the two made up. “Alright everyone listen up! We’ll be leaving Venice in two days. Do not embarrass yourselves or make us look bad, please. Take this as your vacation because afterwards you won’t be given one”, he stated. He faced his men, “Take the rest of the supplies onto the trucks. Careful with the artillery.”

 

“Yes sir!”

 

“And you two..”

 

The two men looked at him, mid kiss. “Y-yes sir?”

 

“Treat each other well. Dieter, you’ll be needing him more than you could possibly imagine. He’s your ally and your comrade” said Germany.

 

“Play nice children”, Italy cooed, stroking Ale’s hair.

 

The other Italian soldiers chuckled but were silenced when Ale turned to give them a dagger-like stare.

 

 _Our children are idiots_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two chapters in one day!~ now that’s productive I guess...


	3. of humans

Heinrich watched the young men load the supplies onto the trucks. One of them stood out a lot. 

“His name is Alfonso”, a voice beside him said. Heinrich looked to his right to see Lorenzo, the youngest of the division.  
“You know him?” Heinrich said. 

“...yes”, he responded, “we were childhood friends. But when his father passed away his mother took him here, to Venice.”

“What happened to his father?”

“Tuberculosis.” 

“...Is your friend alright?”

Lorenzo turned to face him. “Ale? Oh yeah. He’s such a hothead. I don’t blame Dieter. My cousin can be a pain sometimes.” He scoffed slightly in amusement. 

“Oh? You two are related? I’d still like to apologize. That wasn’t professional at all.”

“Lorenzo!” 

The two men turned around to see Veneciano with two women, walking towards them. 

“Oh wow! Is that really you Lorenzo?” the second woman asked. 

“Oh gosh, it’s you! Anja! It’s been so long!” Lorenzo replied. 

“Yep!” Italy said. “And we also bring Leo’s sister.”

Heinrich looked at the younger female. “Ah yes, the peacemaker.” 

“I’m just bringing in his bag. He forgot it and I came here as quickly as I could. I’m glad I didn’t miss you guys”, she said. Her name was Carina and she was a local, probably in her early twenties, and actually lived in Florence but came to Venice to visit her brother and grandmother. “Wait, with all due respect, why are you here Feliciano?” Lorenzo asked, “I thought Vargas was going to be the captain?” 

“Oh god, have mercy”, one of the nearby soldiers whispered. 

“Not that Vargas!” Ale said as he made his way to them, bandages still present on his face, “This Vargas; the younger one!”

“Oh GOD, please have mercy!” the same soldier groaned. 

“Heyyyyyy”, Italy huffed. “rude.”

“I just wanted to see my boy before he left”, Anja said. 

Lorenzo faced the woman. “That’s right. Oh boy, what? Where’d he go. I just saw him”, he said looking around. Heinrich pointed to the trucks that were being loaded with supplies. “We just saw him helping out with the cargo, but he seems to have vanished.” 

“Aw, well don’t worry. We already spent a lot of time together the past two days. Please, do take good care of him.” 

“And don’t forget about my brother either!” Carina said handing Lorenzo the bag. 

Germany walked out accompanied by General Gariboldi and General Friedrich Paulus. “It’s time to go!” Germany announced. 

The soldiers made their way onto the trucks, a few others walking by foot, waving to their loved ones who came to watch them go off. 

“See you in a year!”

———————————

The road to Stalingrad was hell. Rain was constant and the roads became impossible to travel due to all the mud. The supplies would have to be shipped a bit later, perhaps on mule packs instead. The troops took only what they could carry and continued forward. Many times they found theirselves having to sleep on the side of the road, some offering to stand guard in case of an aerial strike or an enemy tank finding them. Germany announced that their next stop would be Oradea, Romania that way they could cross through Ukraine quickly and into Soviet Russia. 

Already they had gotten into trouble. A few civilians that were members of the resistance clashed into them. No major casualties, but still a worrying matter. Germany wondered what lies ahead of them. 

Germany, accompanied by General Friedrich and Italy, went to the nearest town so that their medical team could stock up supplies such as gauze, bandages, stainless steel scissors among other things. How sad it was to be conscious that soon many of their people would perish. But what about them? What happened to nations when they died? Germany didn’t know. Last time he knew a nation died it was his siblings; brothers and sisters who simply ceased to exist. His elder brother Prussia never could explain it. Every time he asked, Prussia became a sobbing mess. What happens to nations? It must be awful, far worse than a human’s death, he thought. 

Germany supposed he could ask his friend instead but Italy deliberately avoided the conversation. He’s lost someone too, idiot, Germany told himself. He never asked again, and all that he could do was imagine what it was like. And even then, he would pray to whatever higher power was listening that he never meet that fate. He wanted to live. To thrive. His people to flourish. Boy did that bring a lot of memories.  
••••••  
“Remember Germany, you have to be polite and project confidence. No more of this shy, whimpy Scheisse”, Prussia said taking a book from Germany’s hands. “First impressions mean everything! And you have to reflect my awesomeness! I’ll disown you other wise.” 

Germany’s eyes widened in horror. “Kesesesesese! I’m kidding. But seriously,” he said fixing, “I do want you to be on your best behavior today-“

“Sir they’ve arrived!” a man by the doorframe said. 

“Let them in!”

Two men walked into the room, and if it weren’t for the curls on their heads, he would’ve said he were seeing doubles. “My friends”, Prussia began, “it’s so good to see you again. I’ll have you know we’ve pushed the Austrians back wayyyy past their own borders. Winning will be a piece of cake. Independence is as good as ours now!”

“That makes me glad”, this first began man began, a soft smile forming on his face. 

“Yes, soon we’ll be able to unify and become the great country we should have been long ago,” the second added slinging his arm over the shoulder of the other. He looked past Prussia, spotting Germany. “Who’s this?” he grunted. 

“Oh, I almost forgot! Romano, Veneciano, meet my new baby brother, Germany.”

Veneciano stood there, in shock and awe.  
Romano greeted him with a curt nod. “So what are you going to do?” 

“Well I was born to take over Europe-“ he began but Prussia slapped his hand over his mouth covering it and muffling any other words. He chuckled awkwardly. “Hhehehe that’s enough sugar for you~”

Romano eyes him suspiciously. “Uh huh, sure.”

“Say”, Veneciano said, “you... you look a lot like...”

“Like who sir?”

“Your... your... brother.”

“Which one?”

Veneciano eyed him up and down. He took a deep breath before talking. “You have a lot of potential. I can tell. Promise me you’ll be a good nation when you grow up.” His voice started quivering and his eyes began tearing up. 

Germany blinked a couple times before answering. “I-I promise.”

“Good. You have to be strong if you want to thrive in this world.”

“I’m very strong!”

“And tall too.”

“How tall sir?”

“This tall”, Veneciano said holding a hand way over his head. 

Germany would be strong and tall for him. He’d be great. Death would fear him. He’d be the best nation al them all. Prussia let out a low chortle resting his elbow on Romano’s shoulder and leaned in towards Germany. “And handsome too.” He smirked. “Looks are important as well, I mean, just look at me!” His hands when to his hips and he puffed out his chest. Romano rolled his eyes. “Yeah look at him. He looks like shit. Don’t be like him”, he whispered. Veneciano giggled and looked at Germany. Well we only came by to talk for a bit. We really need to head back home.” Prussia began to lead the elder Italian to the conference room. Veneciano looked back one last time. “I expect big things about you.” 

“My brother says the same thing.”

“Good. I’ll see you soon.”  
••••••

“Hey!”

Germany’s train of thought was cut off by the yelling. He turned to see Italy pointing to an object on the ground. “Can we take it pleaseeee~”

————————

Italy sprinted back to their camping spot and stopped at the top of the hillside. 

“Look What I’ve got!” he announced, holding the object above his head. 

A few soldiers turned around so see what it was all about. 

“Guarda! Ora possiamo giocare a calcio!”  
one said. I few got up running towards their captain and Italy turned away a chase commencing. Germany sat on the grass and laughed as he watched how they caught up to him, tackling him and kicking the soccer ball that he brought to play. 

Enjoy your life while you can.


	4. in the snow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to update. With finals and graduation I’ve been sonoverwhelmed but here you go! Enjoy!~

 

> Going through Ukraine wasn’t easy either. Mud was constantly present and slowed them down. At this rate winter would catch them. The rains turned the terrain into swamp like areas and the woods became thicker. Germany and the two generals looked once more at the map.

 

“We should stick to the left here, meaning that we’ll travel approximately 12 hours through the swamp. Better than being gunned down on main road, right?”

 

“Yes that sounds good”, Gariboldi said. He turned to the troops who were sitting behind him, resting. “Alright ladies, lets go!” General Friedrich picked a few soldiers to accompany him to scout ahead as did Gariboldi and Ludwig. Germany looked at Italy and pointed ahead, “Take Leo, Alfonso, and Heinrich and scout over there. I’ll take Dieter, Ale, and Lorenzo.” He looked at a pair of medics sitting behind him. “Come with me as well.” Italy began leading his small team into the swamp, the mud almost reaching the top of their knee high boots. The mud would occasionally stick to them and made walking difficult. Leo stumbled and almost fell in completely. He cursed under his breath. I just wanna get out, he thought. It was frustrating. He slowly began to pick up his pace, passing Alfonso and Feliciano, ultimately catching up to Heinrich who was in front. They kept walking through the swamp, the sound of mud sloshing beneath their feet.

 

“I just wanna get out of this damn-“

 

-CLICK-

 

Heinrich turned around at the sound, looking behind briefly, watching as Feliciano squatted slightly. He did the same, kneeling and pointing his gun forward. His eyes widened. Did his comrade spot Soviets ahead and he couldn’t quite see them? Was there a threat lurking in the woods ahead? But as he scanned the area ahead, there was nothing really. “What?” he asked looking behind at Leo. Leo simply looked down in fear, swallowing his saliva. Italy’s soft voice broke the silence.

 

“Stay calm Leo, stay calm. Don’t move Leo.”

 

He then looked at Heinrich who was still in a defensive position. “Heinrich”, he called. He gestured with his hand slightly, as if calling a puppy to heel. “Heinrich, come”, he said. Dazed and confused, he slowly rose up.

 

Italy gave out a cry.

 

“MINES!”

 

Alfonso looked back at the others. “MINES!” he repeated. “Retreat! Go back!” he shouted. The soldiers began backing up. Italy gestured once again at Heinrich. “Come, Heinrich.”

 

As he made his way back, Leo gripped his arm before he passed by. “P-please... please greet my sister w-when you return.. please.” He looked away. “Go on now! Get lost! Hurry!” He let him go and Heinrich quickly strode to Italy who sprinted back as soon as Heinrich reached him. Germany, on the other hand, began making his way to Italy. “Feli, what’s wron-“

 

The mine went off suddenly and the four men spun around watching as the mud flew in all direction like a volcanic eruption. Feliciano and Alfonso’s eyes were filled with horror and shrieked as droplets of blood and mud sprinkled on their faces.Heinrich flinched and shuddered as Leo’s blood got on him and Germany immediately wiped his face, terrified, and hugged Italy as he began hyperventilating. Germany tried his best to calm him, whispering things to him in the softest voice he could muster. Hopefully no one would pay them any mind as they embraced.

 

“This is all my fault. Oh god. What have I done”, Italy croaked, his words muffled by Germany’s uniform.

 

Germany looked at him sympathetically, stroking his curly hair and rubbing his head with his cheek. Italy began whimpering. He hid his face in his chest.“His grandmother will be so disappointed in me. I... I couldn’t- I didn’t help hi-“

 

“Sir!”

 

The two turned to look at a group of soldiers who came with a few other strangers. Local farmers perhaps?, Germany thought. “General Ludwig! We found these spies. They claim responsibility for the mines”, claimed one of the German soldiers. “We heard one go off just now”, another said.

 

Russians.

 

Germany fumed with rage. These men had killed Italy’s soldier, and it was their fault Italy was now suffering. “Make them pay!” a soldier shouted. Germany wanted make sure the Italy saw that they truly were friends and that he’d do anything for him.

 

“Make them walk ahead. If we want to reach the Stalingrad quickly, we’ll have to cross this swamp. However this shithole is infested with mines.” He looked at the Russian soldiers. “You will walk ahead. If you stop, we will shoot you. If you try to run away, we will shoot you.”

 

Germany aimed his gun upwards and began shooting, mostly for intimidation.

 

“DO YOU HEAR THAT IVAN!!” he barked.

 

“Oh please spare our lives!” the Russians pleaded. Italy grabbed Germany’s shoulders.

 

“N-no! Don’t do that! J-just ugh let me take them as prisoners. Look!” He pointed out their sergeant badge. “They’ll come looking for them. It’ll be futile if we kill them. Let me interrogate them. Perhaps we can find another, safer route to Russia.”

 

Germany watched as Italy ordered his men to feed and care for their new prisoners of war; men who had indirectly killed the young Italian boy.Unlike him, he didn’t lust for revenge. Germany began to wonder if there was something wrong with himself. The Russians were surprisingly cooperative and told them that the rest of their division were based near Stalingrad; in its outskirts more specifically. Germany supposed that if he was an Italians prisoner he wouldn’t want to go either and just stay and throw the rest under the bus. They explained that the easiest and fastest way to get there would be by crossing a large clearing situated a couple of kilometers from where they stood. “A clearing? That’s suicide! Such a vulnerable position. We’ll be spotted right away!” Italy blinked as a small snowflake crossed his line of sight, watching it land on his coat and melt. “Well if we don’t make a decision soon we’ll freeze to death before we reach the camp.”

 

——————

 

The snow came down quicker than they thought and even though the clearing was only a few kilometers from where they were, it pilled up around them fast and made the trip rougher and seem longer. Italy looked around, thinking of what he could do to lighten up their moods.

 

“Let us race!” he announced. He then began trudging through the snow and up a small hill at the edge of the woods. A few others joined him though coughing and struggling. Italy scrambled up the small hill, reaching the top before anyone else. He turned to face the others. “Look!” He waved his arms. Germany and a few others gave a small wave back, smiling tenderly at the man. “Look Ludwig! I won! I beat you all!”

 

Germany let out a low laugh and scoffed turning away. “If only you ran like that when I asked you to!” He took out his map and looked for the captured soldiers finding them laughing with the other men. “Hey, come here. Tell me how much farther must we walk.” The men made their way to Ludwig and inspected the paper in front of them. One of them looked at it in disbelief, and the others began looking around, as if trying to find something.

 

“Oh god sir, we’re here. I’m surprised no one has spotted us. Either they’re gone or-“ The man abruptly stopped talking. Germany eyed him. “Or what?”

 

“Or... it’s a trap.”

 

Germany’s heart stopped. Then that means that Italy is-

 

The shrieks of panic made their way to their ears. “CAPTAIN! CAPTAIN!”

 

It was Italy who was running back to him with his hand clasping Lorenzo’s tightly and the other waving frantically. “A TANK! AN ENEMY TANK!” And sure enough, the metal giant seemed to rise from the snow at the top of the hill behind them. The barrel pointed to their direction... and fired. It landed only a few feet from the two running men. The impact shook the ground and thrust Feliciano and the young boy into the air slightly only to then crash back down and then roll the rest of the way down. Some soldiers were at the foot of the hill and opened their arms to catch them.Oh Gott im Himmel, bitte sei gnädig. “They where waiting” a Soviet muttered.

 

Germany looked back at his men who were only armed with hand grenades and assault riffles. Damn! If only the rains hadn’t stopped them from being able to bring along the trucks and tanks and other stuff. If they could retreat a bit back into the woods, they would be able to temporarily station theirselves and fight them off successfully, for the time being. He turned to find Italy who was carrying his youngest troop which appeared to be injured. “Quickly Feli! Come!” The tank began to advance chasing the few soldiers who were nearby and pushing the rest of the troops back. Germany gave Heinrich and Dieter a shove and led them back to the woods. They stood behind the thin trees using them as a barrier, not that they helped much. In fact, as Germany was firing to the enemy advancing, a Russian sniper shot Dieter twice; once near the thigh and the other in his lower abdomen. Germany quickly sprung into action grabbing his leg and commanding Heinrich to take his arm that way they could both carry him. And so they ran further into the forest until the stumbled upon a small band of Italians: the medics. One medic really. Where was the other one?

 

The medic was tending to someone at the moment and didn’t see the Germans arrive. The wounded man beneath him was panting and groaning in pain, a pool of dark red surrounding them. Another Italian soldier saw them and tapped the medic on the shoulder. He turned to the three men approaching. “Please! He needs help! Help! Aiuto!” Germany said. The medic simply looked at the man he was already tending to and then back at the Germans and then back at his current patient. Germany noticed that the medic had a small dosage of what appeared to be meperidine. Not much left huh? The wounded man weakly motioned for the Germans to rest their friend beside him. With great effort he spoke, “Dategli l'ultimo.” The medic looked at him in disbelief. “Che cosa?! Sei sicuro?” The man nodded. The medic mimicked the motion for the Germans to come closer.

 

“Lay him here”, he said. Germany and Heinrich brought Dieter closer and laid him next to the other wounded soldiers beside, few already splayed out in a neat row, lifeless, heads and faces covered in sheets and other clothing items. The wounded Italian reached out to Dieter. “Don’t disappoint me.” The medic immediately administered the pain killer to him and began tending and cleaning the gun wounds. Germany looked around for a moment, his muscles tightened as he heard the faint noise of explosions. “Where is the other medic?” he asked.

 

“He’s right here.” The two looked over at the man beside Dieter; the man who gave up the last dosage of meperidine for him.

 

The three stood in silence, despite the pain Dieter was in. The medic continued to aide him throughout the fight. Italy emerged from among the trees. He was a complete mess, mud decorating his uniform and face. A bruise was visible below his left eye. Germany strode to him. “What happened?”

 

“I was about to ask the same thing.”

 

Germany had just opened his mouth when Italy’s knees buckled beneath him. Two Germans behind him grabbed a hold of him, preventing him from fully collapsing. Two German medics. Ludwig narrowed his eyes at them. “Where. Were you.”

 

The two shifted their focus from the Italian captain to their general in confusion. Their facial expressions where those of a deer caught in the headlights. “Where were you when I needed you? When he needed you?!?” he screamed, his hand directed at Dieter who was being treated. Italy began breathing heavily. “Is now really the time, Ludwig? I don’t feel so good.”

 

The German medics used this as an excuse to not answer, one quickly pulling out a container from their bag. Painkillers. More specifically, meperidine. Lots of it.

 

“Where did you get that?”

 

“Ludwig stop it! Just, GOD-“ Italy held the medic’s arm tightly. “It.... hurts ...” The German medics tried to give Italy the drug but were shoved away by Germany. “Where does it hurt Feliciano?”

 

With a trembling hand, he instructed him that it was in his left lumbar region, near his liver. Sure enough when Ludwig removed Feli’s shirt, a small cut was visible. The cut however was deep and instead of blood gushing out, the veins ruptured within him. Internal bleeding.

 

“Sir! We’ve managed to push them off. We were able to destroy three of the five tanks they had. Unfortunately that does mean that we’ve lost most of our grenade supply for now.”

 

The German medics shuffled closer, and with the Italian sobbing in pain, he released him, allowing the two to care for his injuries. “Sir?”

 

Germany turned around to see the Italian medic finishing up with Dieter’s wounds. At least eight other Italian soldiers lay dead beside him. “S-sir?”

 

“Yes I heard you.”

 

Ludwig knelt down beside Feliciano again and belt his hand tightly. Italy shut his eyes tightly, panting again and tilted his head slightly to face Germany. A weak smile appeared on his face and Germany reciprocated it. “Rest for now Feli.” He stroked his hair. “Once you and the other get a bit better we can advance.”

 

“Yes ok. ...thank you.”

 

The snow continued falling down upon them. The dead were buried in the pure white ground. Camp was set up and the night was deadly silent but the air of the morning after was filled with mourning and cries for the fallen. Germany noticed Italy sneezed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. plans

Kharkov was their resting point. The local hospital took the injured troops into their care and occasionally the other soldiers would stop by to visit. Italy, being a country, or personification of a country, was able to recover faster than the other men and was quickly sent back to Germany’s side.

 

Germany was currently sitting down in his barrack and Italy was laying in the cot beside him, reading a book. He stood up and put his coat on then threw Italy’s coat on his face. Italy looked at him in confusion, watching as Germany buttoned up his jacket. “W-what?” He sat up slowly on the side of the bed.

 

“Come with me. We’re going to the post office. To pick up a telegram.”

 

“Oh.” Italy muttered. He quickly put the coat on himself, tying his boots and putting his Sam Browne belt over the coat.Germany reached over to grab Italy’s cap and tossed it to him. Together they trudged into town towards the post office. The snow had stopped falling but it wasn’t thawing anytime soon. If people wanted to travel, they had to shovel it out of the way. For days, the local citizens cleared their main roads in order to keep their town flowing. After a bit of walking, the two made it to the post office, absorbing the wonderful heat stored inside the small building. Germany approached a young boy sitting by the counter, giving him his rank and first name (as he did not have a last one) and was given a small envelope with a crest sealing it.

 

Italy sneezed.

 

Germany gave Italy a look but then quickly dismissed it and motioned for Italy to follow him outside and then proceeded to tear it open, reading the components. Germany smiled a bit. Italy watched him closely as he blew into his hands to keep them warm. “What’s so funny?”

 

Germany held out the paper to him and Italy took it with trembling fingers. He began skimming through it. “You can keep it. Go on, show them.” Italy beamed and ran as fast as he could back to their barracks, of to deliver the news on the paper. 

 

 

———————

 

With the permission of the Italians, the Soviets began sorting through the small objects and possessions of the deceased, arranging them neatly for delivery. Most families only received a telegram or a letter at most but Captain Vargas insisted to do a bit more. He suggested taking a badge or a photograph or anything small that could distinguish them from the rest to give back to their live kin, as a memory. The Germans also praised them for aiding in the destruction of the tanks and rewarded them for their loyalty. Although grateful, they began to associate themselves with the Italian army rather than the Germans.

 

“There’s a bit of stew left over. Anyone want some?”

 

There really was not much of a difference of being inside the barracks or staying out, unless many of them stayed inside then their body-heat would fill the air but that soon became stressful. Together many of the soldiers sat outside eating their rations for the day, sharing out of curiosity and boredom. Soon they would reach Stalingrad. A day or two at best. 

 

Italy’s footsteps were quickly detected, the sound of snow crunching beneath him echoing. “I bring good news!” All ears were now on him. “The trucks are arriving tonight around midnight.” Oh. Ok, well great, but that really wasn’t something to celebrate about. They had done quite well with out most of their supplies, but they weren’t about to deny that they really needed to restock if they wanted to survive.

 

“They’re bringing chocolate!”

 

Oh.

 

Chocolate was like a luxury. The most was white chocolate but even that was cut off their ration supply months ago. Italy showed the telegram which showed the supplies that were to be brought soon. Towards the bottom of the small page was written: Schokolade.

 

———————

 

Germany was concerned really.

 

He watched as Italy put out what seemed to be the hundredth cigarette. He followed Italy’s hand as it reached into his pocket, retrieving a pack that was half empty. His pale fingers took out another and he watched as it was slowly brought up to his lips. The urge to sneeze suddenly took over him and Italy turned away, hiding his face and covering his mouth with his sleeve. “Ughh sorry”, he said a sheepish smile forming. Germany handed him a handkerchief allowing him to wipe his nose.

 

Italy noticed the small hint of repugnance that was hidden in Germany’s facial expressions. “You shouldn’t smoke too much. It’s bad for you.”

 

“You shouldn’t drink too much. It’s bad for you.”

 

“Don’t try to guilt trip me Feli. I’m not a child and I’m simply giving you advice-“

 

“Um. Yes. You are.” Italy responded. “I am... literally hundereds, thousands of years older than you. This has no great effect on me.” He rose the cigarette like a trophy above his head. “Let me be. For all we know, this could be my last one.”

 

“Don’t say that. You don’t know that.”

 

Feliciano continued to puff out the smoke, unamused. “Oh, and you do? I’ve seen war before and I’ve seen death. Many times. Just because we’re harder to kill doesn’t mean we’re immortal. I’m not stupid.” He glared at Germany, his face clearly fuming.

 

Germany shoved Italy off the stool he was sitting on and caused him to fall on his back, letting go of the cigarette.

 

The laugh that escaped from Ludwig’s lips was beautiful... but he was still pissed.

 

A light in the distance stopped them from continuing their discussion and the two stood up from their posts to try to identify the source. It was the trucks. They had finally arrived. The two stood up from their post and walked to where they parked and called out for a few soldiers to help them unload. Together, all the supplies and food rations were distributed accordingly in no time. The two generals approached Italy and Germany and the two saluted their respective leader.

 

“Well gentlemen,” General Gariboldi started, “tomorrow is a big day.”

 

“Yes. And with our forces, I’d say Stalingrad is as good as ours,” General Friedrich added.

 

Germany nodded, his eyes fixed on a stray rock on the icy grass. Italy gave Gariboldi a smile and looked over to Germany. He linked their arms and then looked back at their superiors. “Together we’ll be unstoppable! Look at us!”

 

“I’d say this war will be over by Christmas.” Germany looked up to Italy and smiled warmly at him. Italy looked at him in surprise and happiness. “Christmas?! We’ll be done by Christmas?!”

 

“That’s... the plan, yes.”

 

“Wow! Can we spend this Christmas at your place Luddy?”

 

Germany removed himself of their embrace. “Well yes, that’s fine I guess. But wouldn’t you rather spend it with your brother?”

 

Italy beamed at him again. “I always spend the holidays with my brother. But this is special. We’ll celebrate our win AND Christmas.” All he could do was nod.

 

At dawn, the divisions marched out back into the snow and towards Stalingrad where another German division would be waiting for them. Sure enough a small band of four German soldiers were waiting at the outskirts of the city.

 

“We’ve been waiting for you. We’re glad you could make it.”

 

“We won’t be able to call each other the same names so in order to avoid confusion your German team,” the soldier pointed to General Friedrich, “will now be called the Wehrmacht.”

 

“We also regret to inform you that we do have some... bad news...”

 

Germany groaned. But we just got here, he thought. “We’ve been able to push the Russians off for the most part. We’re in control of a quite large area, however, there are a few hiding in these buildings.”

 

“You must be very discreet when wandering through these streets. We’ll discuss some more when we reach the camp.”

 

They began to trudge into the wrecked city. Rubble decorated the streets and buildings were marked and scared of the battles it had been through. Germany noticed that Italy kept his human companions close to him. Now that he thought about it, Italy always kept them close, like a mother hen and it’s chicks. The thought was quite amusing. “Halt!”

 

One of the four German soldiers that received them stared at the wall before them. They had reached some sort of a dead end. Only it wasn’t a dead end for the street continued if you turned left. But who knew what lied ahead. Maybe a Russian team was just waiting to ambush them or perhaps there was nothing at all. Or the car that was conveniently left behind right before the curve was a car bomb or it could just simply be an abandoned vehicle. Germany prayed for the latter.The leading German soldier looked over to Feliciano and Ale.

 

“Clear for us.”

 

Italy tugged Ale’s sleeve positioning the young man behind him and the two slowly walked to see what was around the corner. The two had just made themselves visible when they were greeted with heavy gunfire. Their first instinct was to keep running forward, diving behind the abandoned car and using it as a makeshift barrier.

 

“Shit!”

 

Germany watched the poor soldiers tried to defend themselves, quickly popping their heads up from behind the car, returning gunfire, risking getting shot themselves.

 

“They’ve got sandbags. They’re securely positioned.”

 

Damn. This was their turf.

 

Ale peeked once more at the enemy on the other side of the street. “Mio dio... They’ve got a tank.”

 

“WHAT?!”

 

They fired and the projectile struck the building behind them causing it to topple over. Feliciano quickly reached for the other and yanked him back with the rest of the group. “We’re not going anywhere like this. We’ll just have to force our way through.”

 

What the shit. No. Force their way through?!

 

With that, the group ran out and began firing wildly. Germany thought the whole move was foolish and tried to think quickly, trying to devise a plan that wold result in few casualties when-

 

Italy ran into an empty building. He ran across as fast as he could and though a broken window, threw a hand grenade to the enemy hiding before falling on his knees. The troops quickly advanced before any further complications arose, not questioning what just happened. Everything was fast. Germany ran to Italy, grabbing him by the shoulders and giving him a quick shake. “Italy?! What the hell wer-“

 

“Did you see me? What I just did?”

 

“...Yes, that was brave.”

 

“Yes... I am brave.” He trembled a bit. Germany counted the smaller man’s cough when he stood up. Seven.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

“You ask that all the time. I’m fine. It’s just the cold. I’m not quite used to it that’s all.”

 

——————

 

When they reached the camp they learned a few things. For one, the Italian forces would not be fighting alongside the Germans. They would continue northeast where they would block and defend the Germans from any attacks. Not only that but the Italian supplies were to be taken on mule packs. After a short break, they began to bid whatever farewells and the Italian army continued their path to their new position. The German army stayed in Stalingrad to continue their fight in obtaining the city and waited in anticipation what was expected.

 

“Captain Vargas wished to speak to you before they part sir” a soldier informed Germany.

 

“Ok thank you let him in.”

 

Italy scooted through the small tent towards Germany. “Hey. I’m just gonna cut straight to the point; I don’t have much time left. I actually wanted to apologize. I did some mean things and I couldn’t leave without saying I’m sorry.”

 

“Oh... That’s alright. If anything I’m sorry... for pushing you off your stool.” He smiled.

 

“Well, I’ll be seeing you soon Germany. You know where to find me commander.”

 

The two stepped out of the tent watching as the last of the supplies were packed and the Italian army matching forth.

“Don’t worry they’ll be in good hands” a German soldier said. A few of them had been chosen to lead the Italian team to their point. Germany looked at his friend as an eerie feeling came across him. “Just please be safe Feliciano.”

 

“You doubt me?!” He scoffed playfully. There he went again goofing off in the midst of war. “Of course I will commander! We’ll be spending Christmas together.”

 

And that was it. Italy took the Eighth Army deeper into the Eastern Front to defend their German allies. Germany watched as his companion left and his heart felt heavy when he lost sight of him. Christmas just couldn’t come anytime sooner. Hopefully it would be over by then.

 

That _was_  the plan.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally update. I’m so sorry guys I hope u enjoyed that tho I hate college and I just finished my first week today actually. I need a break lol


	6. listen (part 1)

That WAS the plan.

 

It was foolish now that he thought about it. Did he really expect for a world war to end by the end of the year? Christmas was simply another holiday. It would do nothing to stop this. Germany thought about his time on the western front, when he was fighting the British. He and England settled for a temporary truce on Christmas; all arms were set to the side. Their men sang together that night. They played with each other, ate with each other, mourned with one another. True gentlemen. Potencial friends, perhaps. But that didn’t matter anymore.

 

“Is this war goes on for another year I wonder what other stupid stuff we’ll be doing next Christmas”, England had told him.

 

It was hard to say. Another year of war. Germany certainly didn’t want that as much as his leader told him otherwise; as much as every fiber in his body screamed at the thought of conquest and control. No. And most certainly not after is alliance with Italy. The poor boys. It was terrible really... disgusting. The way Mussolini threw the two brothers into chaos, watching them squirm and writher around in pain and confusion while he sat back comfortably away from any harm. They were completely unprepared. And yet they were very loyal and devoted. Germany tried his best to keep Romano and Veneciano afloat even if it killed him. The two worked hard to be where they were at.

 

He wanted to make sure that they were alright. Often times did he check on them, that was until the two were drafted. The elder was sent to Africa to fight off the allies stationed there. It was a desperate move, an attempt to keep them from sailing into the Mediterranean and landing in Italy, taking it. The younger was sent to the east into Russia. If he didn’t know any better he’d say Mussolini was trying to get rid of him for being “the weak link”. But he wasn’t weak. Germany was fully aware of their abilities and potencial.

 

He was concerned of the idea of bringing Italy with him to fight the Russians but after a bit of persuasion, he thought it all to be okay.

 

And that’s where his mind was set on now. The Russians. They’d managed to slowly take over more and more, pushing the Axis forces back. This was bad. They were supposed to have the upper hand but were failing instead. The Russians would not succumb to a temporary truce. The war would continue through the next weeks and into the new year. So much for a New Years resolution. Another bloody year.

 

Germany hoped Veneciano was fine where ever he was at. What was of Romano? No inform of him had come in.

 

A private jogged up to Germany, a small piece of paper in hand. “Sir, a letter from the general.”

 

It was a small note along with his salary. He was given the privilege of returning back home for the holidays. Another group would cover for them while they were away. But where would he go? His older brother was too busy in France fighting off the English and the Canadian forces. He couldn’t possible ask Japan to join him; he was too far and far to busy with other matters of his own. And Romano-

 

Yeah... let’s not go there.

 

The two didn’t really “hit it off well”, as Feliciano put it. It was best to keep communication with him at a minimum, speaking only what was necessary although he was a bit concerned lately. He hadn’t heard from him recently and Germany wasn’t going to deny he was a bit worried.

 

The cold, winter air brought him back to.... oh yeah Christmas. He remembered what Italy had told him. They were supposed to celebrate together. Germany decided that he would spent his “vacation” with him. He went to the next town over, which was currently functioning to get his companion a gift. Back during the celebration of their alliance, Italy didn’t cease to express his love for a particular device found in the lounge. The memory of Italy’s awestruck expression at the object had him smiling stupidly. An empty shipping truck was to take Germany as far as it could by road. The rest he would walk on his own due to all of the snow. Not that he minded. Anything for him.

 

woah. did he really just think that?

 

The truck swayed from side to side roughly try to move through the snow. Eventually they reached a stopping point where Germany would continue his journey to the Italian camp. He followed the poorly made road that led him to the Italian’s post. One of Italy’s soldiers recognized him and walked up to him immediately. Germany looked at him, surprised. “Alfonso, hello there.”

 

“General Ludwig, to what do we owe the surprise?” Alfonso asked.

 

Germany glanced around before answering. “Oh well um I’m just looking for your captain, Vargas.”

 

He smirked. “Oh he isn’t our captain anymore. He got promoted: maggiore.”

 

Italy had risen in the ranks to a Sergeant-Major? He supposed that the small team did need leaders. “You said you were looking for him? He went out to scout the northeastern perimeter, but he went out a while ago. Maybe if you went out after him you’ll bump into him.”

 

“Really? Thank you.”

 

With a small pat on the young ones shoulder, he trudged off to into the woods looking at the small trees. Germany noticed how they were completely covered in snow. Now that he was really looking at them, well, they’re pretty small. Germany decided that he would cut a small one to take back with him and use as a Christmas tree. With a bit of effort, he removed the sac he was carrying, grunting at how his gloves and thick winter coat made it difficult for him. Grabbing a knife from within the bag, he proceeded to cut the tree the bottom of its thin trunk, eventually prying it free. Germany was about to take the tree back with him when a snowball hit him in the back, startling him and causing him to turn around quickly in alarm.

 

He watching as Italy laughed, crouching down again to grab another handful of snow to throw at him. This time Germany’s reflexes kicked in and he used his arm to shield his face from impact. “You’re here!” He laughed again, embracing him in a hug and hiding his face in Germany’s thick, dark coat. “Merry Christmas Ludwig”, he whispered.

 

———————————

 

The snow began to fall again as the two walked back to the camp.

 

“I assumed you’d go back home to celebrate.”

 

“Oh yeah and with who? My brother’s in France and I doubt Austria would actually want to spent the holidays with me”, Germany replied.

 

“What about Hungary?”

 

“Isn’t she in Greece?”

 

“I thought she was here.”

 

A pause.

 

Germany decided to change the subject. “And your brother?”

 

Italy raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t question the shift in their conversation. “Romano’s alright for the most part. He sends me letters quite often.”

 

Germany looked at him in disbelief. “Are you serious? I haven’t heard from him in.... MONTHS and yet you exchange letters with him often?”

 

“Well yeah.... he doesn’t really like you... I don’t know why..”

 

Germany twitched the corner of his mouth slightly in annoyance. wow. “What does he say?”

 

“Like I said, mostly ok. Could be worse. He was based in Africa. El Alamein. But last month he-“

 

Germany stopped walking, still holding the small tree in his hand. “Feliciano, what happened?”

 

“Their... their forces were defeated. Axis control has been lost. My brother... he’s been hurt. They sent him back to Rome for more treatment. I’m sorry.”

 

“You’re sorry?” Germany started. “Why?”

 

“You’re... not mad?”

 

“Mad? No no no. Frustrated; perhaps, I’m not gonna lie to you, but mad- I couldn’t possible be mad. This, this isn’t your fault. Tell me has he gotten better?”

 

Italy beamed slightly, Germany noticed how he relaxed his shoulders as he answered. “Yeah, yeah much better. A grenade went off near him in the trenches and he was injured along with other soldiers. They began administering care for him there but when they saw that the Allies began winning, they decided not to risk getting my brother caught and taken as a prisoner of war.”

 

“I see...”

 

“You know you lied.”

 

“....What?”

 

Italy looked at him in the eyes. “Remember, you said the war would be over by Christmas but the way I see it, we’ll be here even further than that.”

 

Germany looked away, casting his eyes down in shame. I’m such a bad friend, he thought. “You had my hopes up reeeeaal high Ludwig.”

 

“I’m.... sorry Feliciano.”

 

He started walking once again as Germany waddled with difficulty behind him, dragging the tree he had cut.

 

Italy let out a deep breath before abruptly stopping. Germany looked up at him confused. “What’s wrong.”

 

“I’m gonna have to do something about this.”

 

“Wha-“

 

Germany was then pushed onto his back, startling him. His mind tried to register what just happened. Was Italy really going to attack him? His brain automatically switched to a defensive mode and with his two hands he grabbed the others wrists, restraining him from hitting him. Germany didn’t blame him though. Italy was probably fed up with the war and now he broke his promise; maybe that was the last straw. It was only reasonable that he rebelled. Laughed rang through his ears and he looked up to see Italy straddling him, completely amused with the fact that he scared him. “I’m gonna make you pay~”

 

Italy tugged himself Germany’s grasp and to grip his sides below his underarms. The younger twitched at the touch and began to try to shove the other off him, for he was indeed ticklish and the fact that Italy knew this was quite embarrassing. But Italy continued his assault, giggling as Germany fought to get out from under him (what a sight it was ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)). Germany finally pushed the Italian man onto his back and the two engaged in a playful wrestle, snow being tossed around and about as they struggled with one another, alternating dominance as they rolled across the snow.

 

Their game finally came to a stop and the two men began panting for air, tired, as they watched more snow fall upon them.

“Christmas in Berlin,” Italy huffed, “wouldn’t that have been nice.”

 

Germany looked over at him. “Well I’m here. Are you not happy with that? ‘Cause if you’re not then I might as well just leave then, and I’m not giving you your present either.”

 

Italy’s eyes widened. “A gift? You brought me a gift?”

 

Back at the camp, the soldiers decorated their little Christmas tree as best they could. Germany, led by Italy, entered the barracks and handed him a box. “Now be careful with it”, he warned.

 

Italy carefully began unboxing the item and gasped when he saw what was inside.

 

“No... you didn’t. I mean- thank you, Ludwig!”

 

He placed the box to the side on his bed and embraced Germany tightly.

 

“I didn’t have a lot of money to go around but when I saw it I knew it had to be yours. And sorry I only got one record.” He chuckled softly as his face grew warmer.

 

“Are you kidding! This is the best! A record player... and the song...”, he murmured.

 

“Your favorite. Or at least it was”

 

“It still is!~”

 

Italy removed the record from its casing and began to play it on the record player.

 

“Dance with me.”

 

“Wha- what?!”

 

Italy looked at him, slightly annoyed. “Come on please~”

 

“No no no”, Germany protested, “somebody will see us.”

 

“So what? We’re just dancing and it’s Christmas AND it’s my favorite song,” he whined. 

 

Germany looked at him defeated. He knew him well enough at this point. There was no use in fighting him. “Ok but only a little bit.”

 

Germany hesitantly reached out for the other male but soon found himself being swayed smoothly to the sound of the orchestra, his chin resting on the latter’s shoulder.

 

“How long will you be here?”

 

“Two more days.”

 

“...then let’s make the most of them, shall we.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 _Listen to my song, my Moonlight Serenade._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven’t updated my 18th birthday just passed and I’ve found myself very busy but hey. I hope you guys enjoyed the new chapter


	7. listen (part 2)

They were hardly productive and surprisingly, Germany didn’t complain.

 

The two days Germany spent with Italy mainly consisted of lounging about in the elder’s bunker, listening to the record he had gotten as it played over and over and over again.

 

And surprisingly, Germany didn’t complain.

 

It was freezing outside and so when Italy insisted in staying in bed just a little while longer, Germany didn’t complain.

 

Italy wasn’t going to lie though, it was a bit concerning.

 

The snow seemed to never cease falling upon them.

 

Then again, they were in Russia in the middle of winter.

 

It was also during this time that Italy showed Germany the letters that he had exchanged with his older brother prior to his accident. Germany couldn’t help but imagine what was going on as he read each one. Romano expressed such raw emotion on paper that it was hard for him to believe it really had been him who wrote such gentle words to his brother. The way he poignantly described his experiences of the war... it was depressing.

 

“Sorry I haven’t written that often to you but I didn’t have enough money to buy paper.”

 

“I’d like to send you a gift but I can’t afford it.”

 

“I always pray to God, day and night, for your safety.”

 

 

“I wish I was old enough to fight alongside you for our beloved homeland.”

 

“I’ll be happy when I know you have defended our homeland successfully.”

 

“I hope we see each other soon and tell each other stories about the war.”

 

 

 

Italy had told Germany that his brother had been badly injured in North Africa when he had attempted to save some of his men from a grenade that had been cast into one of their trenches. Clearly it didn’t go well. Romano found himself in a pretty delicate state and a few of the soldiers that were there that day didn’t make it through.

 

Now that Germany thought about it, he had received a report on this, he’d just forgotten that it was Romano that hadbeen stationed there.

 

“You hungry?” Italy asked.

 

_Of_ _course_ _he_ _changed_ _the_ _subject_.

 

“Um... no. Not really. But, tell me, he is better now... isn’t he?” Germany asked.

 

Italy took the letters back, folding them neatly and putting them back inside a small paper bag to be tucked elsewhere safely. “Yes, he is... or at least that’s what the last letter I got said. It wasn’t even a letter from my brother. Another soldier, perhaps his superior, wrote it for me.

...I don’t know... it’s been months and I haven’t heard anything else from him.”

 

Romano hadn’t reported anything for the past few months. This much he knew due to his boss always nagging him of how irresponsible the twin Italian brothers were. Lately Veneciano had been a bit more responsible, but only because his recent tasks were all under Germany’s supervision and so he wasn’t able to get away with skipping his paperwork.

 

And yet, he never once questioned why Romano hadn’t reported anything. He supposed it was just too much of a hassle to stress over it.

 

Maybe he just saw him much more capable of being alone.

 

“Well,” Italy began, “I’m hungry. I’m out for a bite of... whatever there is.”

 

Germany chuckled at this, amused by the thought of Italy complaining of the rations that he’d soon have to consume.

 

“ _It’s_ _so_ _bland_!”

 

“ _It_ _needs_ _salt_!”

 

“ _I_ _want_ _pasta_!”

 

At this point Italy ate simply because food was fuel and there was no time for a nice five course meal; just enough to keep your body going. After a few minutes of gearing up into warm clothes, the two headed out to eat.

 

 

“Polenta _again_!?”

 

————————————

 

 

Dieter sat on Germany’s makeshift desk watching the other soldiers arguing as Germany tried his best to focus and finish his paperwork.

 

“We wouldn’t be in this mess if they had just followed our instructions.”

 

“Alright that’s enough! What the hell are you guys arguing about this time?” Germany said, very much annoyed.

 

One of them stood up. “It’s those Italians, sir. They just won’t listen, and it’s because of that that we’ve lost our northeastern base.”

 

Dieter got off of Germany’s desk and walked towards the group. “What makes you think it was their fault?” he retorted.

 

“Oh please,” another snarled. “All they care about is stupid pasta and their mamma. Their infantile behavior is making us pay greatly! Those... those _wops_ -“

 

“Alright that’s enough!” Germany barked as he stood up and approached the group of young men swiftly. “I’ve had it with your pejorative language!”

 

“What? You’re really going to defend them? If they’d just listened to our instructions the Russians wouldn’t have been able to advance upon us. Now look at us! Fucked and absolutely spent! That’s. It. We’re all going to die and it’s their fault.”

 

“Stop it,” Germany ordered. “What the hell do you think I do here all day? I know it’s not just fun and games. Their last report to me was that they were cornered in the mountains. Now, did anybody take the initiative to go out in their aid?” he asked.

 

One of the boys shrugged at him. “But of course! A rescue team was sent up their but the Russians have locked themselves up there. There’s no way we can get close without getting killed.”

 

Dieter walked up towards Germany’s side. “Wait, so you’re telling me that they’re stuck up there?!”

 

The soldier boy rolled his eyes and crossed his arms before responding to him. “Yesss. Those dumbasses are as good as dead.”

 

Germany’s mind began to race to all sorts of places. He thought of the time he first met Italy in the middle of the woods, the first time he met his dogs. He thought about how they’d just spent Christmas together not too long ago. He thought about his brother and how he’d react if he knew his brother had died under his supervision.

 

He looked over at the soldier boy and gripped his shoulders. “Has anyone else tried to go up there since then?”

 

The boy looked taken aback before stuttering out, “w-well n-no. It’s suicide.”

 

Germany released him from his hold. He turned to Dieter.

 

“Go find me a group of men willing to go up the mountain with me, quickly!”

 

“Yes sir!” Dieter said before sprinting out of the room.

 

Good God Italy had really done it this time hadn’t he. He better not be dead for his sake.

 

In half an hour, a small team had been formed. They suited up and left to try and rescue any of their trapped allies they could find.

 

Germany shared a small map he had with Dieter as they climbed up the mountain.

 

“Dieter, in all honesty I’m glad that you’re here but..” Germany let out a deep sigh before continuing. “Are you sure you’ll be ok? I mean here. With us. On this rescue mission.”

 

“Sir, please don’t worry about me. My wounds are healing just fine. Worry about them,” he said as he pointed to the mountain up ahead.

 

“Yeah,” yelled another voice from behind them. “I’ll be here keeping an eye on him too sir!”

 

“Heinrich?! I didn’t see you earlier!” Germany said.

 

“Yeah, I ran up here. Tried to catch up as fast as I could...”

 

Germany gave him a nod before continuing his way, leading the team deeper and deeper into unknown lands.

 

However, his initial optimism and hope of finding Italy and his soldiers soon disappeared as his men continued to complain.

 

“Goddamnit , why do we have to always have to clean up after them.”

 

“If only they had listened to our instructions, none of this would have happened.”

 

“We’re loosing the war and it’s all their fault. Why are we even allied with such useless people? What were they thinking?”

 

Heinrich and Dieter noticed as Germany’s facial expressions changed with every passing comment made by the others.

 

“Don’t listen to them sir,” Heinrich said. “I’m sure that they’ll be ok. Everything will sort out just fine.”

 

Despite their attempts of easing his mind, Germany couldn’t help but stress of the situation at hand. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, his soldiers had a point.

 

If only they had listened.

 

None of this would have happened.

 

Goddamnit.

 

“Sir I can hear someone approaching us!”

 

Wait what?

 

Sure enough, the sound of snow being crushed on could be heard in the distance causing Germany to finally react.

 

“Hurry! Get into positions!” he whispered.

 

They quickly got into defensive positions, ready to fight off what ever threat was making their way towards them when suddenly, the noise stopped.

 

After a few moments of pure silence, Germany decided action had to be taken.

 

“Who’s there!” he shouted.

 

Soft murmuring could be heard before the mysterious person answered.

 

“Oh please don’t shoot! We’re unarmed!”

 

That voice. All too familiar. Ingrained into his brain forever...

 

“Feliciano?! Is that you?! Come out we won’t shoot,” he said.

 

Sure enough, the small brunet crawled out and behind him, his men. Or at least the few that had made it out with him.

 

Upon seeing him, Italy burst out with a huge smile plastered onto his face.

 

“Ludwig! It’s you! You came to find us!”

 

He ran quickly to embrace him, burying his face into his chest, the cold yet soft fabric of his coat caressing his cheeks.

 

He turned his head up to look at him.

 

“Ludwig, you have no idea how happy i am to see yo-“

 

But the look he was met with was not a happy one. In fact, Germany’s expression radiated annoyance and anger causing Italy to release him from the hug.

 

“Is this a game to you?”

 

Italy flinched at the comment, confusion wracking his mind.

 

“What the hell is wrong with you?! You’ve made me drag these men onto enemy territory because of your ignorance! Enemy. Territory, Feliciano. That’s what this is because of you. It no longer belongs to us. This would have never happened if you had just listened to the instructions given to you.”

 

“I-I, I’m sorry Ludwig..”

 

“Sorry?!” he spat. “Sorry?! Do you ever mean things you say? This isn’t the first time and I highly doubt it’ll be the last. We can’t do this forever Feliciano!”

 

Germany let out a deep breath before looking at the rest. “Let’s just... get back before anyone notices we’re here..”

 

Italy reached out to him when his hand was stopped as it had been gripped tightly.

 

“How long will this go on?”

 

Italy simply looked at his facial expression. Despite being the younger of the two, Germany’s appearance was making him look worn out. No doubt that he was exhausted.

 

Italy knew that he was pissed because of the lost base but there wasn’t much they could do at this point. Their Romanian forces had already been taken out weeks ago, and now, with the loss of the Italian one, Germany’s fall in Russia was a guarantee.

 

They’d have to retreat.

 

Germany let go of his wrist before turning to follow his men back down the mountain and to the safety of their base.

 

“I just... I need some time for myself.”

 

Damn. This was really bad.

 

“Germany!” he said, catching his attention.

 

“Don’t call me that here.”

 

“We’re alone. They’re too far to hear us... look I’m so, so sorry-“

 

“Italy please,” the blond huffed. “There’s- there’s nothing you can do...”

 

The shorter man gripped his bicep before he had the chance to walk away. “Please, listen.”

 

“Italy, I don’t want your apology and that’s it. Now let’s go.”

 

“No! Can’t you see that I’m trying?”

 

“I want to believe you-“

 

“Why are you being like this?”

 

 

 

 

“I’m just disappointed.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not sorry  
> happy valentines muahahahahahahhaa


	8. a talk

Germany sighed as he sat at his desk.

 

Nothing to do.

 

All that was left was to write up a report for what occurred two days ago. He knew that his superiors would be furious upon reading it.

 

He ran his hand through his hair before resting his cheek on his palm.

 

It had been two days since he’d gone out in search of Italy and his men.

 

Two days since he’d yelled him.

 

In front of everyone.

 

Two days avoiding the Italian at all costs. Because he felt embarrassed for belittling him.

 

But he couldn’t just let Italy go without realizing the consequences that his actions made either.

 

_This_ _is_ _what_ _happens_ _when_ _you_ _decide_ _to_ _do_ _whatever_ _you_ _want_ _and_ _not_ _what_ _is_ _needed_ _to_ _be_ _done_ , he thought as he began writing on a blank sheet of paper.

 

Suddenly, he heard the sound of someone knocking on his door.

 

_Speak_ _of_ _the_ _devil_.

 

He was sure that was him. For the past two days, Italy had vehemently searched for him with no luck. Germany had tried everything to avoid speaking to him and so far he’d accomplished just that.

 

But now, he was right outside the door for sure and there was no where to run off tohere.

 

“Ger- ugh, I mean, Ludwig?” he began. “It’s me... Feliciano?... can I please come in?”

 

God dammit. Not now.

 

Please not now.

 

Germany buried his face in his hands. He really didn’t want to do this now. He couldn’t just ignore all his problems either.

 

“Look, I think we really need to talk...”

 

About what? Italy’s apologies couldn’t turn back time and stop things from happening the way they did.

 

Maybe if he kept quiet, he’d leave, thinking he wasn’t there. 

 

“Ludwig, I know you’re in there. I’ve looked everywhere and also I asked where to find you.”

 

Well so much for that idea.

 

“Please don’t shut me out.”

 

Germany twirled the pen in his right hand before slumping back into his chair, letting out a deep sigh.

 

_Let’s_ _get_ _this_ _over_ _with_...

 

“Come in,” he finally said.

 

The door opened only a little, enough for him to stick his head out first. Germany watched how he hesitantly opened it further, the rest of his body entering.

 

“Close the door behind you.”

 

The brown haired man did as he was told and then faced the German. Their eyes locked onto each other one in anger and frustration, the other in sadness and what seemed like regret.

 

Italy tore his gaze away and managed to finally speak up.

 

“I know you’re mad, and you have every right to be so. But just please.. hear me out.”

 

“Why the fuck should I listen to you.”

 

Italy nodded slightly, sighing. No one said this would be easy.

 

“I know sorry isn’t good enough but, please know that I- we tried our best to follow orders but if you’d just known how hard it was for us to do that... I was so helpless out there!” he cried.

 

Germany began to twirl his pen again.

 

“Germany! I’m sorry! I’ll do everything to explain to them my actions!” Italy continued.

 

“Look, Italy... I know it’s been rough for you these past few month but you can’t expect me to keep bailing you from shit,” Germany said. “I understand why you did what you did but still, you could have just followed through and-“

 

“And what?” Italy said. “Die?! For that base?!?”

 

“Well... yes.”

 

Italy shook his head. Tears were starting to form in his eyes. “Unbelievable. You’d actually prefer if we’d die just to keep the base.”

 

The German shook his head. “Because now we’re most likely to get a letter saying we have to retreat. And do you have any idea what that means for me?”

 

“And what about me, huh? Did ya ever ask how I felt? I want to help you but right now I just feel so tired. Like I can’t keep going.” Italy began walking over to the German’s desk slowly.

 

When he reached Germany’s side, he crouched down and held his free hand, the tears finally escaping his eyes and rolling down his cheeks.

 

“You what’s really sad about this?” Germany asked. “That I want to forgive you but I just can’t. Not right now. I have so many things in my head...”

 

Italy looked up to him and slowly rose back up. Panic possessed him.

 

No, this was not how it had played out in Italy’s mind.

 

“What?”

 

Germany sighed for what seemed to be the millionth time. “Italy, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

 

The Italian man stepped back. Surely this had to be a bad dream! “Leave?!” he sputtered out. “Leave to where?”

 

“To your home.”

 

Now Italy was beginning to grow more angry than confused. “Wait, wait, wait. You want me to take all my men back... home?”

 

Germany nodded. “That’s right. I can’t have you and your boys screw things up again. Especially you. Until further notice, I’m exempting you all from my service.”

 

And that was it. “Prick.”

 

Germany looked over to Italy, brow furrowed. His face expressed disbelief.

 

Germany stood up from his chair to try and intimidate the other. “What the fuck did you just say to me?!”

 

“PRICK!”

 

Now he was just plain shocked. What? “Who do you think you’re talking to? I’m not just some boy of yours that you can use such language on. No, I am your commanding officer!” he shouted.

 

“No,” Italy countered. “You’re my friend and friends tell each other what they’ve gotten out of hand-“

 

“And you’ve gotten out of hand with that undisciplined tongue of yours!”

 

Italy was now fuming. All the shit he had had gone through during the past few months in cold-ass Russia; losing his friends, his brother getting severely hurt, and now, his best friend didn’t even want to listen to his apology.

 

But he shouldn’t be apologizing.

 

Italy didn’t regret what he did. All He wanted was to try and save as many of his men from the attacking Russian forces, even if it meant loosing the German base. He could care less about that.

 

“Get the fuck out.”

 

Oh wait what. He wasn’t listening.

 

“Wha- what?” Italy stuttered.

 

“Pack your shit and go.”

 

Italy opened his mouth, but he could form any words. It was all happening too fast. Heck, he wanted to break down on the ground and cry again. “You can’t be serious...”

 

“Oh no Italy,” he said, “I’m dead serious. Tell your men to pack their stuff and go. We’ll probably go the same tomorrow morning if not tonight.”

 

Italy walked to the door, gripping its handle before opening it. “You haven’t been yourself lately...”

 

Germany looked away from him even turning his whole body just to avoid seeing him.

 

“If I could go back and do this all again, I would. Just to make you happy. And you know why? Because your my friend.”

 

Germany hummed in sarcastic agreement.

 

Italy decided to calm down and try one last attempt before leaving the room.

 

“Didn’t you say...we were friends?”

 

“I lied.”

——————————

 

“Yeah, well, some of us can be quite the cowards you know.”

 

“Huh, I never would have expected to hear those words leave a German’s mouth.”

 

Dieter smiles before speaking again. “It’s true. A man with no fears is no man at all.”

 

“Is that so?” Ale said smirking to his fellow Italian companions.

 

“Think of it this way,” Heinrich said. “With something to fear, there’s now a reason to work harder; to try and overcome those fears and become a stronger person.”

 

“Hmm I suppose...”

 

What seemed like someone stomping suddenly reached their ears and they listened as the noise approached them.

 

“What the hell?”

 

It was Italy who was striding angrily towards them. Or at least that what it seemed like.

 

“Oh hey, Capitano! You hungry? Here let sit next to me and I’ll-“

 

The youngest of the Italians wasn’t able to finish when Italy kicked the empty stool next to him as far as he could.

 

“Oi, what was that all about Feli?” Alfonso asked.

 

“Yeah, what’s up _your_ butt?” Lorenzo questioned.

 

Italy faced the group as he breathed in and out to try and calm down. “It’s..Ludwig.”

 

Dieter offered a puzzling look. “What about him? Wait, did you two... fight?!”

 

Italy ran his hands through his hair before answering. “Uhhhh yeaaah. I really don’t want to talk about it but... he asked us to leave. Or ordered us, really. We have no choice.”

 

“Hold up,” Lorenzo said as he stood us for his seat. “Leave? As in leave here and go home? To Italy?”

 

“Yes,” Italy confirmed.

 

“Why do you have to leave though?” Heinrich asked.

 

“Because- because he’s mad. He mad that I lost the base and now the Russian are closing in, and his boss is going to be super mad at him and- ugh it’s all my fault!” He ranted.

 

“No, no,” Heinrich said in an effort to console him. “It’s not your fault. I read the report you know. I gotta say, I’m impressed. Running out of artillery and still keeping your guard for so long... that’s amazing.”

 

“Yeah,” Dieter chimed in. “And if Ludwig can’t see that it’s his loss.”

 

“Thank you boys, but I’m afraid your praise can’t do much for us now.” Italy said in defeat. “So my friends, I suggest you all run along and tell the others. Well leave in the afternoon.”

 

He shooed them off, watching as the three men reluctantly left to tell the others the news.

 

“But that’s too late,” Dieter said. “It’ll get dark soon after and you’ll all be vulnerable of getting caught, or worse, out there!”

 

Italy simply shook his head and shrugged offering the young soldiers a feeble smile.

 

He then faced the rest of the camp. Italy watched the figures of his men walking about, telling everyone what was going to happen.

 

Italy then looked back at the german soldiers, taking a moment before speaking.

 

 

 

“Um, you wouldn’t happen to have a spare cigar, would you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are enjoying reading this just as much as I enjoy writing them (sorry I take so long to update tho)


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